Take This Knife
by Gekiganwing
Summary: An unspeakable evil has been committed. What happened in the lives of Ranma and Akane? How do they go on living?


--Gekiganwing gekiganwing@lycos.com or jalanriggs@ignmail.com--  
  
Holy crap, this is the first fanfic I've even attempted in   
nine months. I thought up this one some time in January 2001.   
Since then, I've been agonizing about its details... the title,   
the themes, the filler material.   
  
Well, I've decided to put all that away for now. Here is my   
new story. It's in a "take it or leave it" format. Enjoy it   
if you can, and feel free to give me some C&C. I ain't   
stoppin' you.   
  
By the way, this story is a bit dark. It has some continuation   
and alternate universe elements, and a story element kind of   
taken from a well-known story... but... well, you'll see.   
Think of it in the way that the "X" movie relates to the   
"X/1999" comics.  
  
**  
  
TAKE THIS KNIFE  
a fanfic by "Gekiganwing" (Alan)  
Part 1: Going Home  
  
**  
  
Ranma ignored his aching hand long enough to kneel by Ukyo's   
gravestone. All around him, small drops of rain met the tall   
green blades of grass. No one watched Ranma. If anyone had   
been searching for him, they would have stopped on seeing his   
cold, pained face.  
  
(You were right, dear Ukyo,) Ranma thought, (Nobody can go   
on living without affection.)  
  
Slowly, he stood up. Ranma was currently nineteen, but his   
mind rarely dwelled on the present. He was in his female body   
at the moment, but neither of his bodies had noticeably aged in   
the past two and a half years. However, He had grown mentally   
old, and it showed--he knew when not to speak. Often, the only   
people he talked with were the personages in his head.  
  
He looked at the image of the spatula-wielding girl. She   
was always there. She was always there at that last moment--  
the slow, clouded afternoon when she stood in front of him,   
taking the attack--  
  
(I may forgive, but I never forget. I know you would do the   
same,) he told Ukyo, (Therefore, I have chosen to stay in the   
Nerima district. Perhaps when all the damage has been healed...  
if that day ever arrives, I shall go to the world. For now, Ukyo,   
I will learn the lesson you gave me.)  
  
Ranma stood up and brushed the grass off his pants. He   
reminded himself of his mission. It was time to do. Thus he   
left the small, gated cemetary with no parting words.  
  
*  
  
Akane, sole proprietor of the Tendo dojo, washed her hands in   
the sink. She knew they were not dirty--no, they were red and   
chapped from too much cold water and rough towels. Yet she   
dried her hands all the same. It was only the fifth time she   
had washed them that day.  
  
She walked back to the training room, but her eyes remained   
fixated on the wood floor. By this time, Akane could trace every   
line and indentation.   
  
Over three years ago, Akane had trained in martial arts to   
defend herself. In those sunshine-ridden days of high   
school, she had several dozen young men chasing after her,   
as well as the slightly more competent Tatewaki Kuno. But   
Ranma Saotome had long since overshadowed each and every   
one of them.   
  
Back in her mythic past, she had two things to defend: her ego   
and her virginity. The first had disentigrated with a single   
sword stroke. One thought kept her sane--the constant reminder   
that she had given up the second thing willingly.  
  
Akane set up several blocks of brick, as she always had. With a   
single strike of her fist, all three crumbled into useless   
bits. Akane breathed hard, but she remained unshaken and   
ready to fight.  
  
So it was with her. True, she had the honor of the dojo to   
defend. That was nothing. No, it was nothing compared to her   
marriage. Akane told herself that without Ranma at home, she   
would lose her last connections to the world of normal   
people. If he left, she believed that perhaps even her life   
would be lost.  
  
(It always comes back to my hands,) Akane thought, (I can   
take a life, or I can reach out to save someone. The   
difference is negligible. The thought is terrifying.)  
  
She went back to her weight training. She set her eyes on   
the small, rectangular window. Slowly, the rain outside   
subsided.  
  
*   
  
Ranma watched the bullet train leave the platform. The   
afternoon weather continued to be breezy and damp. He   
thought about it a second, for not a single person was   
left at the train station. He considered the weather to   
be the deliverer of an existential gloom. Ranma knew   
the gloom quite well. He believed that if circumstances   
had been different, the gloom would have driven him   
to suicide, or even the point of a sword--  
  
A man ran up to the platform. He looked to the horizon,   
and saw the train quickly turning into a spot in   
the distance. The man sighed deeply, then said, "Looks   
like I'll have to wait a few minutes."  
  
A moment later, Ranma snapped out of his memory-  
induced trance. He turned his expression into a calm   
smile. Feeling curiosity once again, Ranma also   
looked at the vanishing train. He tapped his right   
foot four or five times. "Sure looks that way," he   
said to the stranger.  
  
The man only shrugged. He took a seat.  
  
Ranma took a seat as well. Though he did not know   
what the stranger was thinking, he presumed the   
man had his mind on the long wait. Ranma knew   
a lot about waiting. Bullet trains were nothing   
next to the family he had chosen to protect.  
  
*  
  
"Mr. Happosai, I'll be cleaning the entrance hall   
if you need me," Kasumi said. Taking a broom in   
hand, she left the kitchen.  
  
Meanwhile, Soun Tendo sat down at the table with   
his bowl of steaming noodles. He glanced at   
Happosai, who sat across from him. Soun gave the   
old master a questioning glance, but he did not   
receive a reply.  
  
As he had done frequently for the last four or   
five days, Happosai held his head in his hands   
and looked toward the floor. His eyes were   
empty, as if he was lost to the world.  
  
"You seem a bit depressed today, master," Soun   
said to the old man.  
  
"Not depressed, but angry!" Happosai exclaimed.   
Though he had spoken clearly, he did not muster   
the effort to look up.   
  
Soun did not reply. He knew the cause of   
Happosai's anger all too well.  
  
From the adjacent room, Kasumi called out, "I'll   
be cleaning up the front porch if you need me!"  
  
Neither man replied to her statement. Both of   
them needed the young woman. Saying such a   
thing out loud, of course, was another matter   
altogether.  
  
"It's my entrance hallway. It's my front porch,"   
Happosai said to himself.  
  
Soun only nodded. His old master knew much more   
of martial arts than he. It had been only a mild   
surprise that Happosai knew much more about   
real estate than he. Knowing the man's personality,   
it had been a major surprise that Happosai not   
only divulged the location of his own house,   
but allowed Soun, Genma, and Kasumi to stay   
there.  
  
Happosai quietly added, "But at least she cleans   
it."  
  
"Yes. She does what she can."  
  
*  
  
Akane heard the short, staccato knock at the door.   
She knew from the noise that it was not Ranma.   
From the way things were going, it was one of the   
all-too-typical persons who berated her. One of   
them arrived, even eighteen months after the fact,   
at least every week. These people had one of two   
motives: to challenge her in savage combat,   
or to repeat the same six "what was your motive"   
questions the media always used.  
  
A moment later, she opened the door just enough  
to let some light in. "This is the Tendo dojo.   
What do you want?" she asked. The question was   
one she always used. By this time, she could not   
say it in anger, nor could she say it in a depressed   
tone. Her current voice registered only dull  
boredom.  
  
On the other side of the door stood a small,   
nervous businessman. "I'm here from Cat Cafe   
Headquarters," he said.  
  
"Oh... sorry," Akane said to him, "I'll get the   
message to you in a second. Don't mind me. I'm   
not feeling very well." With that out of her   
mouth, she ran to find the most recent memo.  
  
Two minutes later, she returned with the memo   
in a sealed envelope. "Here you are--this month's   
official statement from my husband and I,"   
she said as she handed it over to the man.  
  
"Thank you," the businessman replied. He grew   
somewhat flustered as he asked her, "Before I   
go, is it true that--"  
  
Akane knew exactly what he would say. Looking   
deep into the man's eyes, she told him, "I   
don't know what you've heard. But the act of   
violence we committed is now in the past, and   
I refuse to bring it up. One thing *you* should   
know before leaving--" and here she drew a long   
breath before stating, "--You can do a lot of   
things with an decent kitchen knife. You can   
even kill yourself with it. Or you can use it   
to create wonderous things."  
  
"I see," the man said, "Sorry for mentioning   
the incident."  
  
Just before Akane shut the door, she told him,   
"Don't worry about it. Thank you, and goodbye."  
  
*  
  
As he wandered off the train, Ranma appeared   
to be heading nowhere in particular. One could   
have easily mistaken him for Ryoga--except that   
the "lost boy" had not appeared in the Nerima   
district since the wedding. From the way he   
walked with heavy steps to the way he occasionally   
talked to lamp posts, one could almost say that   
Ranma had taken his place.  
  
The neighborhood was quiet. All the typical hubbub   
and nonsense of Nerima was calmed by the dull,   
water-choked clouds. No threats pervaded the air.   
There was still a chance that Ranma might be attacked,   
but it was negligible. Therefore, he could walk   
the streets and not have fear--at least, not have   
anything to fear from the world.  
  
He could see the Tendo dojo from the street. It   
stood out not because of any neon sign, but   
because of its aura. The house bore the aura of a   
home.  
  
"I see clouds," Ranma said to himself, looking   
straight past the people passing by him, "and I   
also see some sort of blade. I think it might be   
pointing me home."  
  
He walked on. He walked on through the large   
puddles, but such things did not bother him.  
  
*  
  
Unbidden, the door of the Tendo dojo opened. Ranma   
took off his shoes, hit the light, and called out,   
"I'm home."  
  
He was greeted warmly by Akane, who scowled at him   
and let her battle aura glow a deep blue. "Ooooh!"   
she exclaimed.  
  
"Now that's exactly what I was expecting," Ranma   
said with a laugh. He went into his fighting stance.  
  
Akane pulled out a hammer, for it was a blunt and   
nonlethal object. She shouted a wordless battle   
cry, and charged at him. She gave Ranma a shot to   
the head, and as always, he smiled in response.  
  
If one had the viewpoint of a helicopter, one   
could see the dojo bounce and shake. The violence   
was back. For the moment, the damage of old love   
and hate was forgotten.  
  
**  
  
Author's notes:  
  
I could continue this story. All I'd have to do is   
think up things for our protagonists to do. Y'see,   
I have all the backstory thought up (or stolen),   
and now I just have to imagine what could happen   
next...   
  
For the moment, I'm thinking of short chapters   
each exploring a single theme. The second one, for   
instance, might concern Ranma and Akane's new   
careers. Presuming that the dojo can attract   
students, how would they teach students? Of   
course, assuming I keep going, the second chapter   
may be about something completely different.  
  
In any event, I could use some comments and   
criticism. Write to me at:  
  
gekiganwing@lycos.com   
OR   
jalanriggs@ignmail.com  
  
Thank you.  
  
-Alan "Gekiganwing"  
  
People to thank for story ideas: Yasuhiro "Trigun"   
Nightow, Watsuki "Wandering Samurai Kenshin" Nobuhiro,   
Miho "Child's Toy" Obana, the staff behind "Princess   
Mononoke," Zen, Literary Eagle, Chris Davies, Sailor Mac,   
the Tom Dyron, and a whole bunch of other fanfic authors.  
  
Created March 16, 2001. Ranma 1/2 and everything   
is copyright 1987-2001 Rumiko Takahashi, Kodansha,   
Kitty Films, Viz, and others. The author of this   
story forfeits any rights to it. Feel free to   
copy and use the story, and edit it at one's   
discretion.  
  
"I hate and love. And if you ask me how,   
I can't say, but it shivers me." 


End file.
